


and a movie

by zweebie



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: (of sorts), Abed-focused, Character Study, Ficlet, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Gen, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 06, and a movie, i wrote this in a crying haze after watching the finale and then didn't post it for a month, no real romance because my ships for this show are a garbage fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zweebie/pseuds/zweebie
Summary: “So, what exactly would this documentary be about?”Abed cocks his head. “I don’t know. It would be about them. It would be about them and...I guess it would be a little bit like Friends, except funnier. I mean, the relationship and drama of it. Although the emotional bits were always my least favorite. I liked the action episodes the best.”OR, Abed Nadir lives in LA now, and there's something they still haven't done.
Relationships: Annie Edison & Abed Nadir, Britta Perry & Abed Nadir, Jeff Winger & Abed Nadir, Shirley Bennett & Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes & Abed Nadir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	and a movie

“I want to make a movie.” Abed says it abruptly. It’s the reason he came, after all. And it’s important to make your point early in the conversation; otherwise it runs away from you.

“You know I’m not a producer, right?” his friend asks. 

“I know that. But I wanted to be able to air the idea out. See if it’s Hollywood-ready. I know what I’m doing, but a second opinion can’t hurt. Besides, you seem to have some success.”

His friend laughs. “I mean, a couple movies in, I guess my opinion counts.” Abed cracks a smile. “What’s it about?”

“Friends. Not the show. Friends of mine. Old friends, actually. From before I moved here.”

“A movie based on your friends?”

“I was thinking my friends could be in it, actually.”

“So, a biopic?”

“Yes. I could document some portion of their lives.”

“You mean it would be a documentary.”

Abed pauses and then says, “Technically, yes, but six seasons and a documentary doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.”

* * *

Abed doesn’t have a roommate, but he does have friends. People that he hangs out with regularly—going out to dinner after work, having movie nights where they all bring different snacks. They have bad taste in movies, but so does he. He’s the first to admit Kickpuncher isn’t a masterpiece. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have his costume hanging in his closet for emergencies.

Or non-emergencies. But only if they involve watching the movie alone at two in the morning and acting out the scenes as they go. Those are acceptable.

In high school, he didn’t think he’d ever have any friends. He thought he was stuck in the underdog role, the nerd that got his books knocked out of his arms, the kid that no one wanted to be partners with. Although Abed had never actually gotten his books knocked out of his arms. He thought it was a ridiculous trope. He’d fit into the rest of the categories though.

At some point at Greendale, he’d thought he would never again have friends like the study group. These were the days, the short period that would change their lives forever. The period that they would eventually have to leave behind, but that nothing would ever measure up to again. He’d expected to spend the rest of his shallow life thinking back to these four (five, six) years with his found family. As it turns out, though, tv shows are short because of budget, because of the inability of writers to churn out more, because of low viewership. And just because they’re short doesn’t mean there isn’t more to the story. He’s happy now. He’s comfortable.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a picture of that first halloween up on his bulletin board, though. 

* * *

“So, what exactly would this documentary be about?”

Abed cocks his head. “I don’t know. It would be about them. It would be about them and...I guess it would be a little bit like Friends, except funnier. I mean, the relationship and drama of it. Although the emotional bits were always my least favorite. I liked the action episodes the best.”

“The action episodes from Friends?”

“No, from when I was at Greendale.”

“Oh, sorry, yes, the episodes from when you were at Greendale,” his friend says, and Abed can tell it’s sarcasm, but he can also tell that it’s not mean. 

Abed nods. “Yes. Maybe I should do something more whimsical, like that. It’s not exactly in the sitcom format, but the show never was.”

“And by whimsical, you mean…”

“Oh, you know, paintball fights, eerily accurate homages, the like. Genre-bending stuff.”

“That’s what college was like for you?”

“I told you,” Abed says. “Genre-bending stuff.”

* * *

  
Everyone still keeps in touch. Annie visits the most. She’s happy, and he’s glad he told her to take a forensics class. It’s better for her. 

She visits and she asks how he’s doing (well), what he’s doing (he’s working on his portfolio before he starts trying to get a big title—it’s an important step), and where his new dreamatorium is (he doesn’t have one. He’s grown past the need for childish things like that. He doesn’t need a designated room for rendering imaginations. He’s an adult. He can do it anywhere in his house now.) 

Annie’s doing well, too. She had to intern for a few years, but now she’s properly training at the FBI Academy. (“Basically, I’m, like, really fit now,” she says and laughs. “And they let me carry a gun.”

“But you already had a gun.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Troy and I found it in your bag when you moved in.”

“ _You searched my bag?”_ )

* * *

Abed and Troy talk to each other sometimes, when Troy has cell service. It’s not often. 

Troy didn’t bring a DVD player (which is ridiculous, Abed should have helped him pack), but he did manage to buy a crappy portable one from one of the places he’d stopped for fuel and food. Every several weeks they call, put the same DVD in, and then count down to play. Troy’s movie is always scratchy and terrible, so it’s awkward (“Pause. No, wait, play...oh no, it’s lagging again. Did it just skip over a scene? Pause.”) They dress up and make popcorn, and a couple of times they even made a blanket fort like back at Greendale. 

Troy has been on his trip for longer than any of them had expected, but that’s what happens, right? And that has to be okay. He’ll be back eventually, and Abed is okay with that. 

Troy says he’s been making music. It makes sense. He’d always liked writing raps for the two of them.

* * *

Britta visits often too. Mostly to detail him on the rampant racism and misogyny in the film industry. (“You work with these people? Abed, I can’t believe you. Do you understand the history behind this? These people have been silencing voices for decades. Blackface, yellowface, and don’t even get me started on the women’s roles in a lot of these movies.”

“They’re good movies.”

“Yes, but the impact of them on our society is astronomical!”)

He knows about all of it, anyway—he’s a muslim and half-arab man watching movies made in the twentieth century. It’s difficult not to notice the bigotry. But he knows she means well. And he likes it when she visits. 

Abed shows her the neighborhood. It’s small and busy and feels like a movie set, probably because it is the movie set. He’d seen so many stories told in Los Angeles. Being here is amazing. They go to a coffee shop, and she drinks coffee while he eats a cupcake. Then, they go for burgers. 

* * *

  
New Message   
To: dharmon@gmail.com  
Subject: Props

How much would it cost me to get enough paintball guns to stage a school-wide fight if the school had about one thousand people in it? Try and get back soon.

  
New Message   
To: dharmon@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: Props

Disregard the paintball guns. It’s been done too many times. 

* * *

Shirley visits the least, although he knows that she wishes she could come more. (“I’m so sorry,” she says, “I just wish I could take care of all of you, but my babies take up so much of my time.” Then, “did you know that Ben Benjamin took his first steps last week?”

“Yes. You sent me a video, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Wasn’t it nice?”

“Very nice.”)

She bakes for him. She bakes for all of them, actually, since she always makes them send pictures of themselves with the food to the group chat. It’s not like it was. She knows her worth, and she knows that they need her. “I just like to take care of you, is all,” she’d said. They sit at the table and eat. Shirley doesn’t like silence. Which is nice, because it means that she’ll listen to him talk for hours. He can’t always tell if she’s getting bored, but she doesn’t outright stop him, and that’s nice. She thinks everything is nice.

* * *

New Message  
To: dharmon@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: Props

How about a vat of lava?

* * *

Jeff doesn’t visit the most out of all of them, but he does stay the most in touch. He’s still at Greendale, the only one other than Britta. They’re still trying to keep the school running. Britta started a bartending class, which is ironic because Britta is terrible at bartending. But being incompetent is part of Greendale’s charm, isn’t it?

When Jeff comes to visit, he wants to watch Abed’s documentaries. They’re getting good. Jeff thinks so too, and Jeff would say if he thought they were bad. Abed likes that about Jeff—he says what he thinks. Except for the sarcasm. And the lawyering. 

The point is, Jeff rarely lied to them. 

He does critique everything except the filmmaking, though. He jokes about Abed’s friends, about his boss, about the logo for the coffee shop at the corner of the street. He gets distracted by every conventionally attractive woman that comes on-screen, too. 

“Hey, you’re doing all of this documentary filming, Abed,” he said, during his last visit.

“Yeah?” Abed pressed pause.

“Remember when you would film us? Make all those movies? Like when Pierce tried to fake his goddamn death, and you wouldn’t put down your camera even when we were all having breakdowns? Or when the dean made that commercial, and you wouldn’t put the camera down because of his breakdown?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

Jeff paused, and Abed turned a little to stare at him. “I don’t know. It was fun.”

“You’re right.” Abed’s brow creased. “It was fun.”

Jeff didn’t reply, so Abed pressed play again.

* * *

It takes a lot more planning, but Abed eventually cobbles together some things. A ragged film crew. The equipment he needs. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do with this, once it’s done. Sell it? Keep it on his shelf, along with his other documentaries? Their adventures had always seemed like too much to keep from an audience. 

* * *

He types out the email a few times, many times, because he’s not sure it’s right, because it’s too long, because it’s too brief, because it’s too cliche, too plot-twist-slash-sequel-slash-unecessary-renewal. In the end, though, he deletes the whole thing and just writes what he wants to say.

New Message  
To: brittaperry@hotmail.com, jwinger@greendale.edu, troyisawesome@gmail.com, shirleybennet@yahoo.com, aedison@gmail.com  
Subject: 

Hi,

I want to make a movie.

**Author's Note:**

> i binged this show on netflix during quarantine and it absolutely destroyed me. i immediately opened up a document to write a fix it before realising that there wasn't anything to fix, really. i just wasn't used to show creators actually knowing how to write, so props to dan harmon for that, i guess. i have a bunch more fic ideas, so i'll definitely get to work posting them soon!! thank you so much for reading and please leave a comment and/or kudos if you liked it! (all email addresses in this fic are either fake and made up or blatant and obnoxious references to the show! you'll never know)


End file.
